Ghosts of War
by Sarakaroline8
Summary: The past cannot be buried. People cannot be forgotten. Chaos cannot sleep. Demons cannot be tamed. Two years have passed since the fall of Negan and the Saviors. With a new threat to the safe zones arriving, rules must be broken in order for them to survive. SIXTH INSTALLMENT OF THE MANY HEARTS TO TREAD SERIES. Sister story to apenny12's HOPE.


Chapter 1 

_June 23, 2015  
Alexandria Safe-Zone_

" _Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery…"_

 _Father Gabriel's words echoed within the quiet of Alexandria. The sound of a shovel could be heard as it pierced through the dirt. A woman whimpered in the distance. The song of mourning was thick throughout Alexandria._

 _Nearly every living soul within their walls could be found at the cemetery that rested beside the church building. Jenna's home was on the other side of the gravesite. In vigilant solitude, she watched from her porch while listening to yet another rite of burial being recited. The entire day had been spent memorializing their dead. She no longer wished to dwell on such somber thoughts. However, she stayed close out of respect for the recently deceased._

" _He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower," Father Gabriel continued, "He fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek for succor, but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord God most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful Savior, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death."_

 _The words stung Jenna's mind as she held the journal in her hand with clenched fists. The act drew her attention to the dirt under her fingernails which immediately made her chin quiver._

 _Yesterday had been her sixteenth birthday._

 _Yesterday, she spent the afternoon digging graves._

" _Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer." Father Gabriel stopped. Jenna glanced up to witness him stumble over the next words followed by a brief cry before he regained control of himself. His emotion caused a wave to trickle through everyone else as they all felt the bitterness of the day and let the loss flow throughout._

" _But spare us, Lord most holy," Gabriel spoke again in a quiet voice, "O God most mighty, O holy and merciful Savior, thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee."_

 _The pain was surreal and too much to digest in the short amount of time. Jenna wondered if she ever would get over such atrocities or if it would only harden her outer shell._

 _Wearing a black dress and ripped black tights, she put her short, curly, black hair behind her ears then closed her eyes while forcing herself to stay in control of her emotions. Despite the rough couple of months, she maintained an indifferent attitude only to show others that she didn't need their help._

 _Even if she did._

 _Songs were heard in the distance as Jenna glanced up to see a group of people over one particular grave as they held each other close to share in their grief. The melody sounded haunting as they sang about farewells and their loved one greeting Christ at long last. But the melancholy rang through more so than the uplifting message. No one could see the bright light at the end of the tunnel. Only darkness._

 _The sound of wind blew through Alexandria as the whispering breeze sent a chill up Jenna's spine. Their communities were never alone in their world. In the back of her head she always understood that. However, it was easy to forget others wanted them dead. It was easy to forget others wanted their paradise to burn._

" _Forasmuch as it hath pleased almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed," Father Gabriel's voice rang clear, "we therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change the body of low estate that it may be like unto his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself."_

 _It was easy to forget that they were just as vulnerable as they were when the apocalypse first began. Nothing had ever really changed._

 _Nothing was ever going to change._

" _Rest eternal grant unto him, O Lord. And let light perpetual shine upon him. May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed… through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."_

 _Three Months Earlier  
March 7, 2015  
Alexandria Safe-Zone_

Night shifts.

Dwight trudged back to his home with each step feeling heavier than the one before. It hadn't been a night of herds or a scuffle that had to be taken care of. Instead, it had been a night of forcing himself to stay awake due to the uneventfulness. Everything had been relatively quiet. He even caught himself calling the people who were on road duty over the walkie-talkie in order to break away from the monotony.

Things were quiet in Alexandria when the sun was beginning to rise. Sounds of nature were pleasant and complemented the morning dew rising from the ground. Colors of red, orange, and pink lit up the sky. Farm animals within the safe zone were currently being fed and loudly proclaimed their apparent joy.

He made his way to the white picket fence in front of his home and placed a hand on the edge just above the sign that read, _Orlich_. He sighed in contentment knowing he had until noon to sleep in. Despite the annoyance of an uneventful evening, he was grateful that boredom seemed to be the only thorn in his heel. His past was evidence that life could have been far worse.

Opening the gate, he stepped onto his property that had been his home for almost a year. The last time he felt truly comfortable in a living space was when he was eighteen before his parents passed away. He knew the importance of a home and the special feeling that came when it was shared with someone that he loved. The thought of _her_ made him smirk as he entered the house in relief.

It felt good to finally relax and not be working at the gate after a long night. Opening and closing the front door, Dwight sighed while shuffling out of his shoes then walked into the hallway with the intent to crash onto his bed for some well-deserved sleep before he had more work to do later in the day.

He walked into the bedroom and was pleasantly surprised to see Sherry still sound asleep on their shared bed. By the time he usually got home, she was either in the bathroom getting ready for the day or in their backyard garden tending to their grapes or tomatoes. Then she would soon go to her job of community building within Alexandria. He wondered if anything was wrong with her as he stripped down to just his boxers and shirt then slid into bed beside his wife. She _never_ missed a day of work.

Every day he was thankful for the time that he had with her and that they were able to just be themselves while living the life they wanted. It had been two years since Negan was out of the picture and they enjoyed every second of each other's time. They weren't without arguments or tough days but Dwight was glad to have a partner that understood him as he tried his hardest to equally understand her.

Dwight wrapped his arms around Sherry when she turned over to get into a more comfortable sleeping position. As if knowing something was off from her regular routine, she opened her eyes while looking around the room in confusion. Sherry then drew her attention to Dwight who slowly began rubbing her back.

"I didn't even hear you come in," Sherry said groggily.

"I just laid down not even twenty seconds ago," Dwight admitted as Sherry rested her head on his arm, "Haven't been here long. You are usually up at this time."

Sherry groaned as she didn't even make an effort to get out of bed.

He stared down at her and furrowed his brows. "Are you feeling okay?"

"So tired this morning…don't even know why," Sherry mumbled into his arm.

Dwight smirked as he brought her even closer. He looked at his left hand on top of Sherry's shoulder and fixed his eyes on his wedding ring. He couldn't believe how fortunate the last two years had been to him. Dwight supposed that complaining about the roamers was socially acceptable in their world of chaos but to him, life was good.

Knowing his wife was someone who was always on time for things and could be depended on, Dwight's concern never wavered. It wasn't like her to ditch work just to sleep in as she loved doing her part in Alexandria.

"Are you sure that you're doing okay?" He asked again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sherry responded while moving to sit up, "I'm just being a wimp, that's all. I should head out though."

Dwight gently pulled her back to lay beside him once more. "You have never called in sick before," he reminded, "I think you are allotted at least one day where you can relax."

"Don't tempt me," Sherry joked but her body slumped into the mattress as she welcomed the warmth of their comforter to consume her once again.

Without further thought, Dwight rolled over to reach his walkie-talkie on his nightstand and instantly held it to his mouth and pushed the button. "Rick, this is Dwight," he called and waited for a response. He then felt Sherry reach over his body to grab the walkie-talkie away from him but extended his arm so she wasn't able to retrieve it.

"Dwight," Sherry complained in a suddenly sharp tone, "I have a big day planned!"

"This is Rick," they both heard through the device in Dwight's hand, "What do you need?"

"Sherry isn't feeling good this morning so she's going to skip work," Dwight explained while Sherry was still grabbing for the walkie-talkie. He snorted at her weak attempts as she still almost looked half asleep.

"We get it," Rick began with humor in his voice, "You guys are still newlyweds. You don't have to give a fake excuse."

In one quick and unexpected movement, Sherry shoved Dwight over with every muscle in her body as he nearly fell off the bed. He let out a laugh as she successfully grabbed the walkie-talkie away from him. "I'm fine, Rick," Sherry assured, "I am just tired. I can be there as soon as possible." Dwight rolled his eyes at Sherry's persistence but smiled regardless.

"Sherry, if you are really sick then you should sleep in," Rick reasoned, "I can take care of things around here. Or Barb can fill in if I need her to. Relax for a day and I'll see you tomorrow bright and early. You haven't really taken a break since you've had this job. You deserve it. In fact, I insist."

"That's what I said," Dwight said into the walkie-talkie as he grabbed it from Sherry. She playfully nudged him while both annoyed and thankful that she was able to sleep in. Resigning to a full day of relaxation, she sank back into the bed and put the covers back on top of her.

"I think she agrees with the idea," Dwight said quietly to himself then brought the speaker up to his mouth, "We'll see you later today." With that, he turned off the walkie-talkie completely then wrapped his arm around Sherry's middle to spoon her.

"This is a nice change of pace," Dwight commented, "You should call in sick more often."

" _You_ called in sick for me," Sherry muttered in her pillow.

"Well, I do have some good ideas every once in awhile," Dwight said after several minutes while letting sleepiness take over. He waited for a response before he allowed himself to lose consciousness but she was already back into a deep slumber. Dwight smiled again but then started sinking into sleep himself. Life was feeling pretty great.

…

 _March 10, 2015_

Jenna practically ran into the kitchen to grab a last minute meal before exiting out the door and starting her first day as Sherry's apprentice. It was the first year that their communities introduced the idea of each job having a shadow. The concept was accepted with immediate endorsement from the head's of each stronghold. In the world they lived in, they wanted each person to expect casualties at any given time with a backup to each profession in mind.

Once all teenagers would hit a certain level of maturity and had permission from their guardians, they then got to choose which job they sought to pursue. Jenna had a lot of ambition for being only fifteen years old. She admired her adopted mother, Yolanda, training to become a nurse and marveled at how effortless she made it seem. However, she saw how many countless hours Yolanda put into becoming so and knew that particular profession to be more complicated than she desired.

However, it was something about Sherry's job that tugged at her fascination. To her, Sherry had always been the cool aunt figure in her life. She was the one person who seemed put together at all times. In many ways, Jenna wanted to be exactly like her. So when Sherry accepted her request of apprenticeship, she was more than thrilled.

Just as she was exiting the door, she heard footsteps coming from Kevin's office and sighed with indignation. Turning on her heel, Jenna slowly faced towards him already knowing he wanted to give her some parting words before he even opened his mouth.

She honestly didn't understand why he vexed her as much as he did. Half of the days, she actually liked him and was glad that he made her mother happy. Other days, he took her mother's attention away from her to which she felt a sense of jealousy. To which, Kevin tried to make her feel better about it. In turn, it only made it worse.

"You start work today?" Kevin asked for the sake of small talk. Jenna nearly rolled her eyes because he already knew the answer and thought him questioning it again seemed redundant.

"Um, yeah, I'm heading over there now," Jenna muttered distantly.

Kevin considered her answer as she waited for a follow-up remark. She assumed he probably analyzed every sentence that she ever said to put a psychologic twist on it as if he wanted to read her better. When he said nothing she began to step backwards toward the door to be on her way.

"I… I wanted to give something to you, Jenna," Kevin began and started towards his office. Jenna stood in place while forcing herself to not roll her eyes. When he returned she gave an insincere smile but grimaced at the item he carried in his hands.

"This is for you," Kevin offered and handed a notebook to Jenna who held it with zero enthusiasm, "I figured you could use something to write in."

"So you can read what's going on in here?" Jenna asked snidely while pointing to her head, "I don't really want to keep a diary."

Kevin seemed hurt by her comment but masked it before Jenna had the chance to mention it. "Jenna, I assure you that I wouldn't read the notebook unless you asked me to. But you know I am always here to talk if you need me."

"Well, I don't, so there's that," Jenna muttered.

It seemed to her that Kevin was almost robotic in his mannerisms. Never once deterred by her teenage antics, besides brief moments of sadness, he always continued trying to say nice things to her or offering assistance if she needed it. She always shut him down.

"I'm glad to hear you are in high spirits," Kevin recovered, "I still think keeping a document about your life during this time is important. Being alive and carrying on is a part of our history. If you don't enjoy writing now, take comfort in knowing someone in the near or distant future will enjoy learning about how we survived. Think about it, Jenna. I really do think it will help you in the long run though."

With notebook in hand she felt he gave her no choice but to take it. She debated just tossing it over the fence later in the day but knew she would feel bad if he asked about it later on.

Kevin was great to Yolanda. He was also friendly to her and tried very hard to relate with her in ways that any stepdad would. She didn't understand where the aggression within came from. Everyone else liked him.

Yet, she couldn't keep herself from grinding her teeth every time he walked in a room.

"I'll keep it," Jenna said begrudgingly, "But I don't know if I'll ever use it."

Satisfied with her answer, Kevin gave her a thumbs up and walked back into his office. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why so many people came to him and sought advice. Sherry, who she looked up to in many ways, always spoke privately with Kevin. What did he even bring to any conversation?

Thinking the answer would always remain an enigma, she walked out the door as she placed the notebook inside her backpack with zero intention of taking it out again.

…

Dwight was used to switching schedules. It happened more often than not. With everything that there was to do, as well as enough people to accomplish every task that needed performed, a lot of community members chose to diversify their days to break the monotony. Sherry was not only the community director but dabbled in making wine. Barbara was not only a skilled nurse but also a part-time teacher for the younger children.

As for himself, Dwight's job was being head of security along with Sasha. When he wasn't doing his main job, he would check road maintenance and keep an eye on the people who worked in between borders. Many preferred staying safely within Alexandria. Dwight couldn't blame them. However, he had grown to be a treasure hunter of sorts when it came to scouring abandoned homes.

It became a hobby several years ago when he first crossed paths with a music store. An avid lover of music, Dwight began hoarding albums upon albums with intent to trade from those who desired to listen to an almost forgotten melody. Albums led to old movie rental stores. Movies led to collecting PlayStations. The entire second bedroom in his house had been filled with hundreds of items overlooked by supply runners who were only interested in the necessities. Dwight, on the other hand, developed a pastime and made it his mission to preserve his favorite pieces of entertainment from a lifetime ago.

Whistling _Fire & Rain, _Dwight stepped into the barn to find his horse who immediately turned his head upon hearing his master enter the space. Upon much consideration, he decided to name his horse Hurley from one of his favorite TV shows in the world before.

Several others were tending to the other farm animals in the large space as Dwight nodded a hello towards those who acknowledged his presence. Of those people were Father Gabriel, Tobin, and Heath, who spoke amongst themselves in small talk.

"How are things going with Dwight these days?" Tobin asked while placing food in the bin for the pigs. They squealed ravenously as each pig tried to push the other away so they could eat first.

Once the noise vanished, Dwight felt it quiet enough to give a response. "Things have slowed down a bit in Alexandria," he replied, "Nothing wrong with that. Just enjoying it while it lasts."

"You don't think it will?" Heath questioned but with a sense of irony. Dwight knew Heath had been a part of Alexandria almost from the beginning. Before Rick showed up, all citizens were sheltered from most cruelties that existed beyond the gates. That security ended when Dwight held Eugene at gunpoint before all of them with what seemed like ages ago.

"Safe to assume that it won't and plan for when that time comes, don't you think?" Dwight countered. Heath nodded then eyed his prosthetic leg. They were all safer when they kept their past in mind. History had been known to repeat itself. But only if they got comfortable.

"We have more to lose if something were to happen again," Gabriel said quietly, "I truly believe Alexandria is a heaven on earth."

"Amen to that, Father," Tobin uttered then stepped over to the goat's pen and started throwing compost towards them.

"Gotta good thing going," Heath agreed while pondering something within, "Do you think our communities are the last piece of normal life that this whole world has?"

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it?" Tobin thought out loud, "Best not to think about it."

"Why do you say that?" Heath asked.

"That would make it terribly lonely for the poor son of a bitch left in Nebraska, wouldn't it?" Tobin countered with a grin, "I like to believe there are more places like this. More people stranded can find shelter nearby, settle down, find a partner, make babies… The circle of life continues on. It would be a little more added pressure if we were the only men and women left in the world when mankind hangs in the balance."

"I'm pretty sure mankind _already_ hangs in the balance," Dwight replied with a smile, "I guess that means you and Carol have some busy nights ahead."

Tobin laughed out loud. "I think we both are past our prime. You and Sherry on the other hand…"

"If it happens, it happens," Dwight said simply without explaining their situation in detail. He was never one to rule out that scenario with one day becoming a dad; rather than just the adopted uncle or assigned godfather.

Opening up the stall, Dwight patted Hurley on the snout before saddling him up. He moved slow as he didn't have a time crunch to deal with on that day. He was mostly just checking in with road clearers and supply runners to make sure that they were at the right place at the right time. Rick requested that it be a surprise check-in to keep their workers in line.

Just then, Dwight's walkie-talkie started fizzing which followed with nonsensical chatter. Unlatching it from his belt, Dwight brought it up for quick response but waited for a clearer transmission to go through.

"A message for Daryl, Dwight, Heath, Sasha, and Rosita," Sherry's voice rang through, "A herd has been detected on the highway between Hilltop and Alexandria. We request a team to join Aaron and Eugene as they ride out to shepherd the walkers towards another location. Our highway patrol say this herd is one of the largest in months. Meet at the front gate with your ride in ten minutes."

Dwight and Heath made eye contact as Heath gave him a nod. With that Dwight brought the speaker to his mouth. "This is Dwight and Heath. We'll be there."

"Copy that," Sherry replied, "Don't try anything stupid… I'll see you at dinner tonight."

Dwight raised his eyebrows at the mention of food and spoke back into the mouthpiece. "What are we having?"

"This ain't a private signal," Daryl's voice muttered from the walkie, "I'll be at tha front in five."

Smirking, Dwight turned off the device and nodded towards Heath. "You ready?"

Heath nodded. "It's been awhile since we've had this much excitement."

"That's the truth," Dwight replied, "I'm almost looking forward to it."

…

Sherry turned down the volume then pointed at all the various buttons that filled the front of the machine. "Eugene built this radio for us," Sherry introduced, "It is strong enough to contact our other communities but also can contact everyone in between with walkie-talkies."

"How do you decide who gets a phone or what information gets sent out?" Jenna asked while writing down Sherry's words in a notebook.

"We have three channels," Sherry said and pointed to a dial, "If I want to talk to the people with a walkie, I will put the signal on channel two. That information is pertinent to those specifically in our zone of Alexandria. If I want to speak to Hilltop, I dial channel one. Kingdom is channel three.

"If this button turns red," Sherry continued while showing Jenna a button beside the dial, "That means we have an incoming transmission from a channel that we aren't dialed to. I typically keep it on channel two because we receive more calls from fellow-Alexandrian's than we do the other communities.

"As for your other question, those who usually spend a lot of time outside the gates get a walkie. This is how we get information that a herd is coming our way. We all have plenty of time to prepare before the danger is at our front door."

Jenna's interest seemed awestruck as she looked at the machine in between writing the notes. "Do messages seem minor or do you keep messages about herds only?"

"Between communities?" Sherry asked making sure she heard the question correctly, "Well, sometimes people have family members split between several towns. Sasha and I both have godchildren in Hilltop. If either were to show signs of sickness or have an injury, Maggie or Ashlyn are able to inform us immediately and we'd be on our way in an hour's time."

"Can you make personal calls?" Jenna questioned while seeming genuinely curious.

"I'm sure you could but we prefer to keep the lines open to receive an emergency transmission if needed," Sherry relayed, "You seemed particularly interested in that question. Any reason why?"

Jenna's face reddened at Sherry's ability to read people. Sherry merely smiled and dropped the subject knowing it was probably a boy in one of the other communities that Jenna fancied.

"Well, this radio is only one part of the job," Sherry stated, "Ready to see everything else?"

…

They galloped towards the herd's last known location with much enthusiasm. At some moments, Dwight and Sasha would race each other to see who the fastest rider of the two was. Their horses being trained to handle situations with walkers, they all remained calm and prepared.

"We're getting close to Jesus' location!" Eugene shouted from behind, "Turn right on Brighton Boulevard and his people are on the corner of Medina Lane!"

Sasha gave him a thumbs up to indicate that they heard as Daryl's motorcycle revved up in front of everyone. He flipped Dwight off for good measure then sped ahead while satisfied that he was in first place.

"He hates horses that much?" Sasha yelled as her horse remained nose-to-nose with Dwight's. With resources to make their own fuel, it was still limited to only a certain number of vehicles. It was one of the few things Daryl used for trade so he could continue to ride his motorcycle.

They saw Daryl's motorcycle slow down to turn right and began pulling the reins for their horses to slow down. Once they did, they could hear commotion on the other side of the treeline. Dirt had been brought up from the herd's presence as they wandered aimlessly with the thirst for human flesh driving them to move.

"This herd is bringing in more walkers," Heath stated while slashing at a lone walker heading towards the deafening sound, "Did they say where the herd was heading?"

"South towards Alexandria," Aaron replied who rode up next to Dwight, "Eugene wants to guide them east just a few miles above The Kingdom's boundaries. Their community is already on alert to keep lights and noise to a minimum so they don't attract the herd."

They reached Medina Lane and saw Jesus, Carson, Dante, and several other Hilltop members with their horses already prepared for herd control. Daryl had already parked his bike and was speaking to Jesus about any tactics that they needed to know before they risked life and limb.

"Fancy seeing you all here," Jesus greeted warmly.

"Thanks for helping us out with this," Aaron replied. Jesus acknowledged Aaron's presence more than the others with a smile directed to him in particular.

"No trouble at all," Jesus maintained, "Eugene, how do you propose we begin this?"

"Let's try and be on each side of the herd and steer them eastward," Eugene responded, "The sooner we do that, the more we can direct them northeast and away from all communities."

"We can work with that," Carson answered while situating the protective gear around his legs, "How long do we herd them for before we turn around and head home?"

"Before three o'clock hits ideally," Dwight said with a grin, "I have to be back for dinner."

Everyone chuckled as they all seemed to be in high spirits. Dealing with walkers seemed like a walk in the park at times. When they understood how to deal with herds, the panic of seeing them was less horrific and more a fun surge of adrenaline.

"We'll be out here as long as we need to be," Eugene objected to Dwight's comment but then stared east of them, "No time to waste. Let's take care of business."

…

Sherry and Jenna had an early lunch at her house as they spoke about more duties and other things that needed to be done in Alexandria.

"Consider any hobby that you undertake to be a second job," Sherry started as they walked in her front yard while she fed their chickens. Each resident had their own chicken coop and was something they used for trading. There was never a shortage of eggs or poultry.

"How did you decide to do which hobby?" Jenna asked.

"Do what makes you happy," Sherry replied, "I like to help people. It keeps me out of my own head and I can focus on others instead of me. If I can make Alexandria have an easier time getting by, then I can say I spent each day well."

"I think it's cool," Jenna marveled, "You really care about others."

"I try," Sherry said but was staring at someone walking towards her house. Upon closer examination, she saw that it was Mark who stared at the Orlich home in desperation.

Perplexed, Sherry wasn't expecting to see Mark in Alexandria at all as he and Amber resided in the Kingdom. Nodding at Jenna, she excused herself and met Mark at the white fence as he forced himself to smile in her presence.

"Hey, Sherry," he started with his friendly attitude waning into a more somber disposition, "Is Dwight home?"

"I'm sorry, Mark," Sherry replied, "He's out on herd patrol but will be back tonight. Do you need anything?"

"No," Mark mumbled quietly but his bottom lip began to quiver.

"What's wrong?" Sherry asked.

Mark thought before he said anything but resigned with slumped shoulders. "Amber kicked me out. She's been cheating on me with some guy in the Kingdom."

Jenna was within earshot as the young girl's eyes widened in disbelief. Desperately hoping to get away from the awkward moment, she stared at Sherry with silent plea that she would excuse her from the conversation.

"Jenna, the starter baskets were running low the last time I checked our community pantry," Sherry began, "Can you ask Olivia to guide you through that? I will be there in ten minutes."

"Okay!" Jenna exclaimed and bolted past Mark in a hurry.

Sherry signaled towards her small porch and silently invited Mark to join her. When he sat down on the wooden step, she sat beside him and looked him in the eye.

"She told you upfront?" Sherry asked.

"No, I caught her in the act," Mark lamented quietly, "I don't know what I could have done to make her happier. I keep trying to think of what I could have said differently but I'm drawing a blank."

"I'm sorry," Sherry said sincerely. She didn't know what else to say in order for him to feel better.

"God, why couldn't we have ended up like you and Dwight?" Mark questioned angrily.

"Oh, Mark," Sherry immediately said in a reprimanding tone, "Comparing relationships is never a good way to form healthy bonds."

"I know, I know," Mark agreed, "I can't help but do it sometimes. Same circumstances happened to us. Why did we turn out so different?"

"Because all four of us are different people," Sherry answered, "Amber and I may have endured the same life in Sanctuary but we both dealt with it differently. All of us wives did. I'm sure you can say the same for the Saviors. You all didn't develop into the same people afterwards. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way."

"I guess," Mark mumbled unconvinced, "Have you ever blamed Dwight for messing you up?"

"Absolutely not," Sherry said sternly, "And you should _never_ feel like you did anything wrong. There's only one person who gets to have that guilt. Amber should know that."

Her words brought tears to Mark's eyes as he covered his once burned face in shame. Sherry patted him on the back while feeling his sorrow. From an outside perspective, he had given their relationship his all. It hadn't been the first time Amber had a wandering eye and Sherry felt bad that her friend could never confront Mark face-to-face.

"You're welcome to stay in one of the bedrooms above the office for now," Sherry invited, "Stay there as long as you need to and if you decide that you would like a more permanent residence, we'll give you a key to your own house."

"Okay," Mark said with remorse evident in his voice.

Sherry stood up with the intention of leaving Mark alone but she turned around and glanced at him once more. "Amber is one of my best friends," she started, "But I never thought she deserved you, Mark."

Mark only nodded a response and stared at the walkway under Sherry's feet. With her last thought, she left him to go about her day and was planning on talking to Amber in the very near future.

…

"H-yaw!" Jesus exclaimed loudly to be heard over the walkers trampling and the louder music at the front of the line in an old field. The rumble of decaying feet mixed with a jolting bass shook the ground underneath Dwight's horse. From all the commotion centered on one object, it was easy to stay focused on the plan.

Their job of corralling the walkers northeast proved to be a success. The team of herders kept quiet as their horses traveled swiftly to avoid getting cornered.

Dwight took up the side near the front following the light blue Volkswagen Bus which had giant speakers mounted above it.

He kept his view on all the walkers until he heard the van's engine whine in protest. Turning his head around in a hurry, he saw that the vehicle was no longer moving at its slow pace.

Quickly stealing a glance behind him, Dwight observed that the walkers still had a ways to catch up then spurred his horse to meet Aaron and Daryl who both emerged from the van.

Before they made it to the Volkswagen, Hurley whinnied while bringing his hooves up in protest. Dwight stared down at the dirt to see it had formed into mud. His horse merely protested. The van, however, refused to budge.

Daryl turned the keys out of the ignition as the music simultaneously ceased. Dwight calculated how much time they had before they had to leave and knew everything was being handled for the time-being.

"Spent a whole damn week on this shit!" Daryl complained as he paced next to the bus.

"It's not lost," Aaron said in a tone as if he already said it countlessly before they even exited the car.

"Aaron's right," Dwight replied, "We won't leave a piece of work like this behind. We guided these guys northeast for a couple of miles. It's good enough. When the herd clears out, we'll come back and get the van."

Daryl angrily stared at the van then at the walkers behind them with a weak nod.

"Come on," Dwight said and gestured towards the nearby forest fifty yards away, "I suggest hooking those speakers onto a Jeep next time."

Just then, a scream rang out nearby. Everyone who was on duty glanced around for clarity while peering at Rosita and Sasha wondering if they were the ones who screeched in such a high pitch. However, they were also looking around in confusion and riding simultaneously which proved to be easier said than done.

Suddenly, Dwight focused on a large storage compartment in the middle of the field with people on top of it as they looked to his group with a mixture of surprise and terror. It was a giant boxcar that appeared to have once been used for trains. As the people remained on top of the compartment, Dwight noticed the six horses that were harnessed to it like a covered wagon on the Oregon Trail.

The boxcar group stared at the herd in horror. The walkers with no direction guiding them were drawn to the horses that remained immobile. Wondering if their compartment was stuck in the same exact mud that their bus was, Dwight felt a sick feeling in his stomach. The new group's position amongst a herd was partially their fault.

"Shit, there are survivors down there!" Heath shouted while pointing at the large metal storage compartment, "We brought a whole herd on that group!"

"Shit!" Daryl exclaimed when seeing what Heath was talking about. _They are on top of the storage compartment,_ Dwight thought to himself, _They should be okay._

"We're losing control back here!" Carson shouted. Dwight saw the front of the herd no longer took an interest in heading towards the van. With the sound of the horses under stress and the people on top of the boxcar becoming frightened, they picked their prey and chose another course.

"We should help them," Aaron muttered but stared at the positioning of all their riders. None of which were in an opportune place to ride ahead of the walkers. They wouldn't reach the compartment in time.

"Their horses are goners," Daryl muttered back, "The people should be fine where they are."

"We still have time to prevent something," Dwight argued, "They'll see us watching and think we did it on purpose."

"Let 'em think it," Daryl said, "Nothin' we can do 'bout it now."

However, the worry began to increase as he saw the walker herd finally pressing up against the storage compartment as it then started to tip over with the muddy ground easily giving way. Some of the women shrieked again as they jumped off the boxcar and prepared to fight.

Dwight grinded his teeth and thought about the count he had. "One hundred and thirteen," he whispered and glanced towards the storage bin as the group could be heard shouting amongst themselves any kind of tactics they could use.

"Dwight," he heard Daryl say in warning.

The yelling turned into screaming. Dwight couldn't take anymore while he stood idly by. Looking at the large herd, he knew the odds and he understood the stakes. However, he wasn't considering any other option and lightly kicked his horse to spur it forward.

"Dwight!" Jesus blared which was followed by a "hyaw" and his horse galloping behind him.

"Turn around!" Dwight yelled back but continued to head towards the helpless group.

As he got closer, the walkers seemed more enthused about the action surrounding the boxcar survivors. Fortunately, the mud that had slowed their vehicles down also slowed the pace of the walkers as their rotting feet got stuck in the sludge.

Just as the undead nearly encircled around them, Dwight started charging towards the biters closest to the living and produced his machete that had been strapped to his back. With a loud thud, he obliterated the first walker and quickly sprang into action with another followed by whichever one seemed the most threatening to either him or Hurley.

Jesus was right behind him when Dwight heard him bark orders at one survivor. "On your feet!" He instructed loudly, "Move!"

One new survivor stood near the horses while the walkers seemed preoccupied by one horse that had been taken down as it shrieked with fear and pain. She was cutting at the ropes with a pocket knife to let the other mares have a fighting chance. Dismounting his own, Dwight ran towards her to help assist as quickly as possible.

"Step aside!" Dwight barked and started hacking at the reins with his machete.

"Dwight!" Jesus yelled, "You get back on your fucking horse right now!"

With little time to observe even the largest details, he was able to see a man and a woman close by who looked dumbfounded. He minutely saw that she kept her foot off the ground as if to prevent further injury to an already broken leg.

"Hey!" Dwight shouted to call their attention. Not seeing if they acknowledged him, he continued to chop at the rope. "Take her on my horse and get out of here!"

The man stared at Dwight as if he were a madman but did what he was told in haste. Several seconds later, he heard his horse escape the chaos. The fighting of every able bodied survivor still surrounded him but he knew time was running out. Dwight made one final swoop on the last rein as the horses successfully broke free from the toppled over storage compartment. With a slap, Dwight urged the closest mustang to speed away as they didn't need to be urged twice.

"William!" Dwight heard the woman with the pocket knife yell.

With a quick turn, he saw the source of panic as a man wailed at a walker who bit into his upper arm.

"Dwight!" Jesus shouted.

Dwight stepped towards the man and slashed the feasting walker twice before turning his attention towards the man named William.

"Dwight!" Jesus reprimanded, "He's gone already! Don't even think about it!"

The woman that yelled in horror for her friend William looked towards her other comrades as they began to walk away knowing that staying for their storage compartment was an uphill battle. Dwight's window of time grew short with his impromptu backup slowly leaving him. One biter drew close but Dwight cut its face open before it could do any damage. The walker let out a piercing scream as it fell to the ground. It striked Dwight as somewhat odd to hear how humanistic it sounded but that it also reacted to a wound. However, Dwight didn't have time to dwell on it and instead tried to get William back on his feet.

"Hey!" Dwight begged when William didn't make any move to save himself, "Help me out, man! I'm your only way of getting out of this alive."

"Your friend said it himself," William complained, "I'm already dead."

Dwight calculated how much time he had before more walkers would begin to pour around from the other side of the storage compartment. One walker tried to pulls its foot up from the mud only to its leg completely detach from the rest of its body. With a new idea popping into Dwight's head, he eyed his machete and William's shoulder, he then wiped the walker blood off as much as he could with his jacket sleeve. William stared at Dwight in terror.

"Hold still!" Dwight demanded and brought the machete high over his head.

"Oh my god!" William shouted as Dwight swung the hatchet down with all of his strength. The man screamed as if he was being tortured.

"Sorry about this!" Dwight uttered and slashed several more times to get the bones to break away from attached muscles and veins.

"Dwight!" Jesus called out, "Walkers on your ten! Get the fuck out of there!"

Dwight then brought one foot to rest on top of William's nearly dismembered arm and yanked upwards with the intent of leaving the discarded limb behind. It made a loud crunching noise as William finally passed out from the trauma once his bone broke free.

"Shit!" Dwight muttered thinking he should have expected that. Luckily, William was a smaller person and weighed hardly nothing as Dwight brought him over his shoulders and began to bolt away from the walkers and towards the forest.

"I'll cover you as much as I can!" Jesus holler behind Dwight, "But we still have to herd the other walkers east!"

"We'll hide!" Dwight responded while heading into the trees, "Go help the others!" Thunder soon rolled above them loudly as torrential downpour fell on top of Dwight's head. The walkers still interested in the one fallen horse and William's arm didn't follow behind immediately but Dwight knew they would be coming soon.

His side began to hurt from William's weight. Trying to focus on a hiding place and whether the man he was carrying was still alive, he didn't even see the large tree root as he tripped down into a ravine nearly twelve feet below. William flew down as Dwight rolled uncontrollably. They both landed near the bottom of a flowing creek with leaves and mud covering them from head to toe.

Groaning from exhaustion and disorientation, Dwight brought his head up to find William who landed several feet away from him face down into the mud. In a need to act quick, Dwight ignored the new cuts and bruises that he had endured to save William from suffocation while blatantly aware the walkers were now on the hunt for them.

Sounds of moans and hissing grew stronger amongst the thunder and pitter-patter of rainfall. Dwight looked around the forest for any signs of shelter knowing he only had a few seconds to act before walkers spotted them helplessly in the ravine.

He turned around and saw a little cove that had been created by a small landslide that occurred long before he discovered it. Knowing the direction that the walkers would come from, he deduced that it would be the perfect cover to hide out in knowing other options were nonexistent.

Tugging on the only arm William had, he got on his feet and dragged him towards the cavity for twenty feet then rested him against the dirt wall. Before sitting beside him, Dwight pulled his crossbow from behind his back and loaded it for immediate action if things went downhill. Looking at his clothes and body, he was glad for the mud that would work as camouflage for both scent and sight. Satisfied that he did the best he could, he waited for the sounds of walkers to come and go.

As he waited, William let out a sharp intake of breath and began to pant as his back shot up from the dirt wall while he stared around in a panic.

Startled, Dwight flung his arm in front of the man's chest and forcefully pushed him back to rest on the wall once more. "Shh!" Dwight scolded, "Everything is going to be okay! You just have to stay low and stay quiet!"

"My arm," William said in a quiet panic.

"I did what I had to do," Dwight muttered unapologetically.

"I...herd," William then said as if recollecting the recent event.

"They are still around," Dwight offered to give William a sense of whereabouts, "Stay quiet."

"No, I _heard_ them!" The man breathed, "The walkers...spoke to each other."

Dwight just stayed within the ravine and put a palm over the delusional man's mouth. The rain poured down but he could still hear the roaring noise of a herd thudding around above them and drawing closer. He stayed still hoping that rolling in the mud proved to be enough of a disguise for both smell and camouflage. Briefly nodding to the man beside him, he wanted him to know that they were going to ride it out and hope for the best.

Sounds of shuffling through the muddy forest grew louder with both the torrential rain and slushing noise becoming the only thing that _could_ be heard. Which is why when _another_ sound arose, it took Dwight aback. Not daring to look up, he was still one hundred percent positive that walkers were directly above him beside the ravine. With their menacing groans and sickening hisses, it was impossible to confuse them with anything else.

Yet, with all the noise, Dwight heard the faint whispering coming from the same direction. Puzzlement was apparent on his face as he eyed the man beside him with expression growing towards astonishment.

"Where did they go?" A whisper could be heard.

"I saw them head down the ravine and travel northbound," a response called.

He knew it had to be walkers. But with what the man said before and what he was hearing, Dwight could swear that he actually heard the walkers engage in _conversation_. Intelligent and methodical conversation.

Locking eyes with the frightened man beside him, he knew he wasn't the only one that was hearing the whispers from above.

 _I'm losing my mind,_ Dwight thought in consternation. What had transpired was impossible. The dead had been thoughtless killers for years. He couldn't believe it even if he just witnessed it.

What he heard was something that could jeopardize their future. And it was an uncertainty that made him completely uneasy.

They waited for the herd to pass completely through before they moved on. William passed out once more as Dwight quietly wrapped his gaping wound to prevent infection and loss of blood. Dwight sat in silence while pondering what the news meant and still couldn't wrap his head around it.

Walkers could speak.

…

"Walkers have moved northeast," Eugene announced while staring that direction with binoculars, "The last of them just made it out of the tree line and are back in open territory."

"Do you see Dwight yet?" Sasha asked nervously as they all waited beside the Volkswagen.

Eugene shook his head. "No sign," he grimaced and looked down to Sasha from the top of the van.

"We're waiting," Sasha resolved as she reloaded her weapon in case more trouble befell them.

"It's going to be nightfall soon," Carson grumbled as he checked his watch, "Goddammit, Dwight."

"Son of a bitch," Daryl muttered with contempt while also eyeing the tree line in hopes that their friend would soon make an appearance. Leaning against the van, he cleaned his crossbow from any blood that would rust the cords.

Jesus watched the exchanges as he handed his water bottle to one of the new survivors from the boxcar. "I'm sure your friend William is okay."

"I hope so," the woman whispered and drank from Jesus's water bottle, "Your group comes from a safe zone?"

"We have _ten_ safe zones total," Jesus corrected, "Three very strong ones too. They each consist of more than three hundred people. Small ones are scattered here and there as well. All growing in size."

"How is that even possible?" She marveled in disbelief.

"I assume you haven't been in the area too long," Jesus said as she nodded, "Well, we aren't the kind to turn away new survivors. You are more than welcome to come back with us and rest your feet for awhile."

"We don't typically trust other people," she replied quickly, "How do we know you aren't leading us into a trap?"

"The choice is yours to make on whether we are telling the truth or not," Jesus offered, "But we did risk our lives to save your people. I would think that's far more telling than anything I can say to give you peace of mind."

"Fair enough," she responded and stuck her hand out, "My name is Magna."

"Paul Monroe," he answered and shook her hand, "But my friends call me Jesus."

"I see him!" Eugene shouted from the top of the bus as they all looked to the forest with immediate relief.

…

Dwight limped towards the bus with William draped over both shoulders still in an unconscious state. He heard Aaron whistle triumphantly while others either sighed in relief that he was alive or that they could finally go home after a long day.

Carson was the first to meet him along with one of the new survivors as they worked together to get William off his back.

"You made it," Carson said almost not surprised.

Dwight then knelt to the ground with exhaustion but grinned at his friend. "Like that was up for question."

"Don't get cocky, Rambo," Carson said with rolled eyes, "We were all worried sick."

"You outta yer fuckin' mind?" Daryl seethed as he walked up to them in a fury, "Ya coulda been killed!"

"See?" Carson said and gestured towards Daryl as if to prove his point, "Worried sick." With that, they carried William away towards the horses and left Dwight to be alone with his comrade's wrath.

Dwight still panted for breath but squinted at Daryl with astonishment. "Jesus Christ, that's a fine 'how do you do."'

"What tha fuck were ya thinkin'?" Daryl demanded while raising his voice.

Dwight pointed where the near disaster began. "There were people in trouble, Daryl! Tell me you saw what I saw and knew they needed our help."

"I saw a shitload of walkers," Daryl argued, "Walkers all around us! Others wouldna been able t'survive somethin' like that herd."

Dwight remained unconvinced and said nothing. He thought about telling Daryl what he heard in the forest but was still in disbelief about it himself.

"Gotta be tha tough guy," Daryl simmered while not finished speaking his mind. No one interfered as it wasn't out of the ordinary that the two friends butted heads.

"Yeah, that's exactly why I did what I had to," Dwight feigned in an over exaggerated voice, "Why would there be any other reason?"

"Should we stop them?" The new survivor woman asked Jesus nearby.

"No, they're fine," Jesus replied sincerely.

"Ya coulda got someone else killed 'cause yer dumb ass put others in danger!" Daryl continued, "Next time we won't try t'save ya or follow ya on yer suicide mission!"

"Good!" Dwight countered angrily, "I never asked you to save me! Don't feel obligated to next time."

"Dumbass," Daryl repeated under his breath.

"I'm not apologizing for what I did," Dwight said avoiding Daryl's condescending glare as he shouldered past him, "And you aren't going to tell Sherry about this. If you do, you're fucking dead."

…

"He was right, y'know," Carson interjected after they started heading towards the crossroads that led towards Hilltop and Alexandria. Dwight quickly followed his statement with a groan as they both rode horses alongside each other.

"What he said about you needing the bravado was wrong, I'm not talking about that," Carson then explained, "I'm talking about the part where he said you are putting others at risk."

"I never asked any of you to wait for me or come to my rescue," Dwight nearly hissed, "You guys feel the need to leave then just do it."

"What do we tell Sherry if that day comes when you aren't with us?" Carson countered, " _You_ are godfather to my daughter and will take _my_ spot as her guardian should anything happen to me or Ashlyn. I didn't ask you to be a part of her life for nothing."

Dwight said nothing. He was too angry to argue any further and knew Carson came from a good place.

"Listen," Carson continued, "Do what you want, Dwight. No one can stop you. But the longer we stay alive, the harder it will be to see our loved ones go. After all we've been through and everything we have tried to work for… the families that we have made are almost more difficult to lose than our own flesh and blood. So we will come to your aid every time you do something stupid. Because telling Sherry her husband isn't going to be back is not on my list of to-do's. I think I would rather fight a herd of walkers than do that."

Again, Dwight stayed silent and ignored the thought of Sherry crying on his behalf. Even the idea made his insides twist with agony.

"My life isn't more important than the others I try to keep alive," Dwight muttered, "I don't plan to die and I don't want others to put themselves in danger because I choose to save someone. But I can't do nothing before trying my best."

"No amount of people you save will bring back the people you killed, Dwight," Carson reasoned.

Dwight looked up to him in shock. Carson understood his need to save others and where it stemmed from. Carson merely returned his gaze with a nod as his horse trotted ahead to leave Dwight alone with his thoughts.

…

"The Summer festival will take place on June 22nd and we'll announce it in a week's time," Sherry decided and wrote it down on the large calendar on the dining room table of Deanna's old house.

"That should give our people plenty of time to prepare their better items," Rick said with a grin.

"To trade for the best items," Sherry agreed and took a drink from her glass of wine. Meetings with Rick were the last part of her day to which she preferred to loosen up from the stresses of the day as they spoke of any new factors that needed to be considered.

"How is Jenna liking her apprenticeship?" Rick asked as Sherry sat down across the table from him.

"I think she's getting her bearings," Sherry pondered, "She's realizing that the job isn't easy. There's a lot more than just approving this and that. Sometimes you have to make decisions that will make people upset."

"Ain't that the truth," Rick said with a chuckle as he drank some beer of his own.

"How are things going with you?" Sherry questioned, "Am I allowed to call you brother-in-law yet?" It was a subject that Sherry had been wanting to ask throughout the week but she kept silent knowing it was a personal matter. Barb was one of her best friends and someone who she considered to be family. No longer able to bear the suspense, she knew she had to ask Rick for a direct answer.

The smile on Rick's face grew bigger as he glanced up to Sherry with a laugh. "Um…"

Sherry's eyes widened as she didn't need a direct answer. "You chicken!"

"The right time hasn't come up yet," Rick mumbled sheepishly.

With a shrug, Sherry sat forward in her seat and placed her hands on the table. "Alright, when _is_ the right time?"

A day and night difference occurred in Rick's countenance as his smile dwindled away to what Sherry could only see was doubt. Nodding he glanced at the tabletop in thought before expressing his thoughts to his confidante.

"Do you have misgivings about Barbara?" Sherry began to dig knowing he wanted to say something but didn't want to hurt her feelings as she was both of their friends.

"Oh, no," Rick said in a quick manner to let her know that wasn't the problem, "Barb has done nothing to mislead me."

"Then what is the problem?" Sherry inquired softly.

"I don't want my kids to get attached to her," Rick lied.

"They already are," Sherry countered, "If that really was your concern, you would have stopped seeing her a long time ago."

Rick pondered what to say again as Sherry watched him with some sympathy.

"How long were you married to Carl and Judith's mother?" Sherry asked tenderly as she knew it to be a delicate topic.

"Thirteen years," Rick replied fondly as if remembering all the good moments he had with his late wife, "I wasn't there when she died. To be honest, I checked out of our relationship long before that even happened."

"You don't want to make Barb unhappy?" Sherry pressed.

"This world took our happiness away," Rick divulged from his past relationship, "I couldn't get over some things and neither could she. I chose to ignore her any chance I got because…"

"You have learned since then," Sherry defended on his behalf, "You're making yourself feel guilty for something that happened a long time ago. Are you going to hurt someone else because you can't move on?"

Just as Rick was about to answer, the walkie-talkie piped up from the middle of the table.

"This is Miguel," they heard, "I see our guys coming down the road from herd patrol. How many did we send out from Alexandria?"

Rick picked up the walkie-talkie to respond. "This is Rick. We sent six from Alexandria, Miguel."

"More than six headed our way, boss," Miguel replied, "Looks like we have double now."

Perplexed, Sherry already knew Hilltop radioed in that their patrol had arrived safely only thirty minutes ago. Peering at Rick, she stood up and headed towards the door worried that any extra company could be a potential threat.

…

When they arrived at the gate, Miguel let them all through as each horse came trotting in. As always, Sherry's heart raced when she saw Dwight was back from another day outside the gates. With furrowed brows, she saw he appeared to be covered in dirt and wondered what story he would concoct later that night that was more lighthearted than the terrifying truth.

Dwight noticed her and immediately descended his horse to greet her.

"You're looking very feral," Sherry commented but eyed the newcomers while they dismounted their horses and saw one other man who appeared as equally weathered as Dwight and in terrible shape.

Her husband gave no comment on his appearance and followed her eyeline knowing that was what she wanted to talk about the most. "Magna!" He called as a woman with dark and long curly hair came their way with several other survivors following her lead.

"Magna, this is my wife Sherry," Dwight introduced, "She is responsible for making sure all new members are taken care of."

The woman named Magna studied Sherry with leery eyes. Sherry had been used to those stares from new people as they rarely ever appeared overly trusting.

"Your husband saved our lives," Magna mentioned and gave a small smile, "Thank you for letting us into your gates."

"Not my gates," Sherry corrected, "They belong to everyone who wants a safe place to rest their head. It's nice to meet you, Magna."

"These are my people," Magna greeted and gestured to the people standing behind her. "This is Luke, Connie, Kelly, Yumiko, and over there is William." She pointed at the man who was being escorted by Aaron and Daryl towards the infirmary.

"What happened to his arm?" Sherry asked seeing the makeshift bandaging where a limb was once attached.

Magna gestured towards Dwight. "He chopped it off."

"He got bit," Dwight defended before Sherry could say anything.

"Ah," Sherry said with new clarity but looked to another survivor behind Magna who kept her leg off the ground, "Connie, isn't it? What happened to your leg?"

"I twisted my ankle when we all jumped off our boxcar," Connie explained. The man named Kelly supported her weight and held her side. "It's not as bad as William's injury. It can wait."

"No, we have enough nurses and doctors where both of you can be checked at the same time," Sherry assured.

"I can take you there," Sasha offered behind them. They nodded their approval as Kelly practically carried Connie towards their small hospital.

"They will do everything they can to help your friends," Sherry comforted, "In the meantime, we have showers, clothes, food, and beds. You are all more than welcome to use whatever we have at our disposal. I can take you to your place. You are free to stay or leave depending on how you feel about us. I would like to interview you all individually in the morning so I can know if _you_ are someone _we_ should trust. Does that sound reasonable?"

Magna glanced towards her group members as they all gave her an eager nod. Turning back to Sherry, she gave her consent as well. "We would like to stay in the same room for the first several weeks and would like to keep our weapons if that's okay."

"Yes to the first and no to the second," Sherry answered honestly with a smile, "This safe zone does belong to everyone but it's still our home. House rules say new arrivals surrender their weapons for the first two weeks or before depending on how well we can gauge your character."

Some of the new members moaned with frustration like they wandered into a trap but didn't want to jeopardize an established trust just in case Alexandria proved to be the real deal.

"You have probably heard a lot of empty promises from other survivors before," Sherry reasoned as they continued to hold their weapons, "I understand more than anyone that it's difficult to come into someone's space and believe that no harm will be done. But flip the scenario another way and you'll know it's equally hard to bring strangers under your roof unaware if they'll kill you in your sleep or not."

Magna took a deep breath as she began to hand Sherry her pistol. The others behind her followed suit.

"Thank you," Sherry said kindly as Rick stepped next to her and nodded his hello, "This is Rick Grimes. He is the person who runs this particular safe zone."

"Nice to meet you all," Rick said warmly, "You are welcome to anything we have."

"Everything sounds too good to be true," Magna muttered but shook Rick's hand regardless.

"Could be," Rick challenged nonchalantly, "Have a look around. Do some digging while you're here if that makes you feel more comfortable."

"I'll take you up on that," Magna retorted.

"Now if you guys would like, I can take you to your room," Sherry offered.

Before she left, she handed Dwight Magna's pistol along with her own glock and guided them towards the small cabins that Tobin's team built specifically for newcomers and guests. As she walked further into town, she could only breathe a sigh of content that one more day passed without major incident. New survivors meant a stronger and more powerful community.

Indeed, life hadn't been more satisfying than it had been in that moment.

…

Dwight jolted up from his rest with a gasp as sweat cascaded down his bare chest. The dream was vivid where he subconsciously thought about the interaction from the walkers earlier that day. Had it been his imagination? Were they really speaking? Or was he starting to go insane?

The entire sequence in the forest made Dwight second guess his state of mind. He even wondered if speaking to others in his group was something worthwhile or if they would ask him to make an appointment with Kevin before giving him a strait jacket.

Needing more time to digest what he heard, he decided to keep quiet until something else came up. Since the herd moved away from their communities, it didn't require their immediate attention.

He brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the space where an iron once met skin. Glancing over at Sherry, he saw that she was only partially covered by a thin sheet while she laid on her back beside him. Not wanting to disturb her rest, he delicately grabbed the edge of the sheet and brought it over Sherry's bare shoulders to keep her warm during the night. She lightly stirred from the touch and turned to her side as Dwight looked on with deep admiration. He then got out of bed to get his clothes back on knowing that going back to sleep would only prove futile.

…

Dwight relieved the guard at the gate and decided to watch for walkers on his own while collecting his thoughts. The sun began to rise in the distance as pockets of land glowed from the red and purple sky.

He didn't have a lot of time to himself as he heard another person approach from the ladder. Staring down, he saw Miguel scale the railing with a friendly smile and a nod.

"Heard about what happened with the herd," Miguel started then sat beside Dwight on the perch, "Sasha said they all thought you were dead."

"It was a close one," Dwight admitted and reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

"Sorry about William," Miguel said with a sigh, "After all that effort and for nothing."

Dwight shrugged indifference and said nothing as he lit his bud then inhaled the sweet nicotine. News that William's shoulder was still infected from walker blood came early in the night. "It was stupid."

"Fuck yeah, it was!" Miguel exclaimed but with a smirk, "Sasha also said Daryl nearly whooped your ass. Says you was in it for the glory and shit."

Rolling his eyes, Dwight let out an air of smoke and shook his head. "Sounds like me."

"That's what I thought," Miguel agreed with Dwight's sarcastic comment, "Daryl thinks so too. He don't mean what he said."

"I know," Dwight grumbled.

Before Miguel could respond, he became distracted by something that moved in the distance. "Look," Miguel nodded towards the horizon and stood up from his spot.

In the distance, Dwight could see two people approaching Alexandria whom he had never seen before. They were unrecognizable from the supply runners or highway patrol that he had always crossed paths with. From what he observed at a distance, he could see their disheveled appearances from lack of walls and their worn out backpacks from lack of shelter.

These people were new.

One survivor appeared enthusiastic and grateful as he strode towards Alexandria with a spring in his step. The other seemed more skeptical with her steps being methodical and near hesitant.

They reached a certain point where several guards started to feel threatened by their closeness and chose to act. Miguel was the first to greet them as he put both hands up to show peaceful intentions. "Hey, hands up like this!" Miguel shouted towards them.

The man said nothing as he continued to focus on what rested behind the walls. His friend, however, seemed highly aware of everyone and the raised tension as she began to strap a machete to her hand.

"Jesus," Miguel muttered at the same time Dwight sprang into action.

"Hey!" Dwight yelled to get their attention while raising his gun to show them the basic protocol of their community, "Both of you need to stop right there and put your hands up!" At that point, the man seemed aware that his companion unintentionally raised the tension by showing her weapon as he put a hand to her arm before putting both palms up where Dwight could see them.

"My name is Morgan Jones and I'm a friend of Rick Grimes," the man said while looking directly at Dwight, "We mean you no harm. We've been on the road and just want to rest our feet."

Lowering his weapon, Dwight raised an eyebrow while studying the man. "You know Rick?" He asked then glanced at Miguel with equal perplexity.

The man named Morgan nodded with a relieved smile then glanced at his companion who looked as if she didn't know what to make of the entire situation.

"Could be lying," Miguel muttered under his breath so only Dwight could hear, "He could have heard any of our people on the highway say Rick's name."

"How do you know Rick specifically?" Dwight questioned.

"I met him in Georgia years ago," Morgan replied with his hands still up.

"Well, there you have it," Dwight said quietly to Miguel while walking down the perch stairs to open the gate for the newcomers. Only a few people knew Rick's original group came from Georgia. For Morgan to know that specific place was more telling than any other response would have been.

"I will let you guys in but rest assured you are outgunned and outmanned in every possible way," Dwight announced while fumbling with the front gates lock, "I need to inform a few people that you're here before you see Rick. It's procedure."

Dwight then slid the gate open as Morgan and the young woman walked into Alexandrian territory for the first time. Up close, Dwight could see the girl's reaction was more on the lines of an immigrant from a different land. As if civilization was completely unfamiliar. He surmised that she had to be only a few years younger than Sherry. If the girl were five, he would understand the reaction since most five year old's had no recollection of life beyond the apocalypse.

"Morgan, you said?" Dwight asked the man, "Who's your friend?"

The woman peered up at Dwight with indifferent eyes then continued to scan everything else within their safe zone.

Morgan beamed at his blonde friend and followed her lead with staring at the paradise before him. "Her name is Beth, sir."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES, TRIVIA, & FACTS -**

 **#1 - Jenna's look, style, and attitude are inspired by Winona Ryder in** _ **Heathers.**_

 **#2 - "Whispering breeze" was not an accident. I really meant to be on the nose with that Easter egg of things to come.**

 **#3 - I feel like even though 1-2, 3-4, & 5 had their own separate arcs, 1-5 as a whole provided a beginning, middle, and end. Books 6-10 will also have a beginning, middle, and end as well; broken up by 6-8 (decided to make this Whisperer arc a 3 part series) & 9-10 (that arc is for me to know...).**

 **#4 - Beth's back, bitches! I have mentioned that apenny12 has given me 100% permission to use her version of Beth, right? So yeah, she got shot but you know what? Coda was the episode that dashed my dreams of any Daryl/Beth storylines. But apenny12's story revived that so I will, in turn, revive Beth! Those who say it's unrealistic can turn to apenny12's author notes in Hope where she did extensive research of bullet victims actually surviving a gunshot wound to the brain. It's not impossible.**

 **#5 - Hurley is a character from Lost which ended on May 23, 2010. In my fanfic, the apocalypse began April 2010. Dwight lives in a world where the Lost season finale never aired. I just want that to sink in. He lives in a world of never knowing how they wrapped that show up. My mom lives in that same world actually… she didn't understand the ending lol.**


End file.
